


Imagine an Ocean

by Chthonia



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: D'Qar, F/M, Gen, POV Rey (Star Wars), TW: Brief mention of past sexual assault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2019-02-14 09:13:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13004568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chthonia/pseuds/Chthonia
Summary: Safe at the Resistance base, Rey struggles to come to terms with what happened on Starkiller.By day, she starts to find her place in the Resistance.  But at night, her thoughts are haunted by Kylo Ren.





	Imagine an Ocean

  
_So lonely… So afraid to leave… At night, desperate to sleep, you imagine an ocean…_

She's still lonely, but it doesn't sting like it used to. She's among friends now, and it isn't their fault that the bustle of the Resistance base grates her nerves like the squeal of a rusty hinge. And it isn't their fault that of the two people who'd had her back, one was in a coma and the other was dead. She knows only too well who to blame for that.

She's still afraid to leave, not because of what she might miss but because of what she might find. The General wants her to follow the map she's given so much to guard, and she wants to follow the quest to the end almost as much as she fears being unworthy of it.

She's still desperate to sleep. Her world has dislocated so suddenly; her fears changed so quickly from her own survival amid old wrecks and raiders and steelpeckers to the survival of freedom in the galaxy. The days are too busy to think about it, with patching up the _Falcon_ (and removing one or two of Unkar Plutt's disfigurements), checking in on Finn (the doctor assured her he would pull through, though Rey isn't seeing much improvement) and poring over the map that has cost so many lives.

But the nights…

They'd offered her a room in the base, but she feels safer curled up on her bunk in the _Falcon,_ snug against the familiarity of a rivet-studded wall, breathing air that tastes of oil and feeling Chewie's growling snores vibrating through the metal.

She tries to sleep. But the ocean is no longer hers.

__

_…I see it – I see the island…_

__

 

* * *

 

  
_The murderers, traitors and thieves you call friends_

"Rey?"

She's up to her elbows in the _Falcon's_ power core when she hears the call.

"Come on up!" she shouts, her gaze steady on the intake manifold she is aligning.

She recognises Poe's voice, but they haven't spoken much. He always seems to be in the middle of a laughing crowd, and Rey doesn't like crowds. On Jakku crowds meant danger.

He climbs up behind her, careful not to block the light. "How is she?" he asks.

"Not bad, considering she's had next to no maintenance for the last ten years," she says. "The auxiliary power system could do with an overhaul, but now that I've replaced the Quadex fuel valve she'll be safe to fly. Could you pass me that hydrospanner?"

"Sure." He hands it to her. She punches in the correct torque and tightens the manifold bolts. Then she stands up, wiping her hands on an oily cloth.

Poe peers through the access panel she's vacated. "So," he says, "this is the ship that did the Kessel Run in fourteen parsecs?"

"Twelve, allegedly." She thinks of Han, and pushes back the grief.

"Mind if I look around? I'd like to see where Finn took out a TIE fighter with a frozen cannon."

"Is that what he told you? He told _me_ that was all down to my flying."

He grins. "Well, if it hadn't been for me showing him how to operate ships' cannons in the first place…"

She grins back. "So I've you to thank for him not being able to hit anything for the first five minutes?"

"Hey, cut him some slack. He'd never fired anything bigger than a blaster before then."

"Yeah, I know." Her grin fades. "If it hadn't been for him…"

"He saved my life," says Poe.

"And mine." Rey bends down to stow her tools. "Is… Have you seen him today?"

"Just came from there. He's still out, but Doc Kalonia says he's doing okay."

"I hope so," she says. Finn is the only person who's ever come back for her, and he's half dead because of it. It feels wrong to leave him now.

"He'll be fine," says Poe. "We'll look after him."

They shouldn't have to. It's not fair, what happened to Finn. But if her life has taught her anything, it's that 'fair' doesn't come into it. All anyone can do is keep fighting to survive, and hope to keep lucky.

"Gunner position's straight down," she tells him. "Or do you want to see the cockpit first?"

There's no mistaking the way his eyes light up. She leads him along the corridor, pushing away an unexpected defensive twinge: she may have once seen this ship as garbage, but now it's the closest thing she has to home and she owes it her life. She doesn't want to share it with anyone who can't see beyond the battered shell.

One glance at Poe's reverent smile as they enter the cockpit and she knows she needn't have worried. He's a pilot, after all – he knows that true beauty is found not in pristine metal but in engines and circuits and a myriad different parts working together to make something _more._

He slides into the pilot's seat, runs his hand over the control column, scans the bank of switches above their heads. She takes the co-pilot seat and answers all of his questions about handling and power systems and shielding. He's surprisingly easy to be with: they speak the same language and share a preference for technical problems with clearer answers than everything that waits for them outside.

"Not an easy ship to fly solo," he observes.

She shrugs. "She handles fine for one."

"Easier with two, though. You don't have to do everything on your own."

She glares at him, daring him to continue. But Poe is the last person to back down from a dare. "Hey, no offence. But are you really okay out here? I never see you at mealtimes."

"I'm fine. Just not used to being around so many people."

"Okay." He runs his hand through his hair. "I was afraid that…"

He needs to talk, she realises, and her usual instincts scream at her to shut this conversation down _now_. But there is something deeper within that tells her that this is important.

"Afraid that what?" she asks.

Poe looks out of the window, as if the disassembled fairing on the other side of the hangar is the most interesting thing on the world. "That we were blaming you," he says. "For whatever you told that bastard."

He's talking about Kylo Ren. The nightmare Rey has been trying to avoid.

Rey watches him. He's turned back to her now, and the words tumble out. "I know what its like. It's not your fault. He slices your mind open and takes what he wants and there's nothing you can do to stop him."

"But I-"

She stops. He isn't talking about her. Poe Dameron has also known what it's like to lie helpless while an alien mind drills into his.

Except, she wasn't helpless, in the end. She can't give Poe the reassurance he's looking for, can't tell him he's not alone in his guilt. What she experienced was too… different. What could she say to him? _Did he show you his face? Did you feel his breath on your ear as he described your innermost dreams? Did you look into the dark depths of his eyes?_

And what does it say about her, that she let him see what was so private?

_So lonely…_

"He's a monster," she says.

"A dead monster," says Poe.

She looks at him, startled. "He's not dead."

It's Poe's turn to stare. "'course he's dead. You saw the planet blow."

She wraps her arms around herself. "He didn't die," she says. "I can… feel it."

She's mentally kicking herself. Poe would be better off thinking that creature could never touch him again.

"Is this a Force thing?" he asks.

Rey shrugs. "I suppose. I don't really understand it."

Poe forces a laugh. "So, magic Force powers mean you end up with Kylo kriffing Ren in the back of your head? For the first time in my life, I'm glad I don't have them."

Yeah, old Zuvio hadn't been wrong when he'd said to be careful what you wish for. The old stories of Jedi heroics had somehow failed to mention the constant background itch from one's worst enemy.

"How do you deal with it?" she asks. "What he did?"

Another bitter laugh. "Oh, it varies. Sometimes I imagine taking his head off with a blaster, other times I'm firing a proton torpedo up the backside of that shuttle of his. And if he really is still out there, one day I'll do it."

"Not if I get to him first."

He raises an eyebrow; there's a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I bet you my victory bottle of Corellian Reserve that you won't."

She can't help smiling. "You're on. But forget the brandy. If I get him first, you're going to let me fly your X-wing."

He leans back in the chair. "Well… that's not really up to me…"

"Oh? You don't strike me as someone who sticks to rules."

His mouth falls open in mock outrage. "What are you saying? Rules are my middle name! Though for you, lady, I can make an exception. But if _I_ get to that masked bastard before you do, you're going to let me test the _Falcon's_ point-five hyperdrive."

"Well, that's not really up to me either, but I can't see Chewie having a problem with it."

"Deal." He stands up and extends his hand. "And now that's settled, let me take you to dinner. I know this great restaurant. You have to serve yourself and they cook the food to mush, but the company can't be beat."

She grins. "All right. Just let me get the rest of this oil off."

Perhaps this is why he laughs so much, she thinks as they leave the ship. Laughing keeps the nightmares at bay.

"On second thoughts," she says, glancing at him sideways, "if I get him first I want the X-wing _and_ the brandy."

They keep up the mock-haggling until they reach the canteen. It's silly and it's crass – and it might just help her fight the fear.

_You still want to kill me…_

 

* * *

 

_You know I can take whatever I want._

She has never been that helpless, not since that filthy Pantoran who'd thought a ten-year-old girl would be easy prey. She remembers his foul breath on her neck, the _wrongness_ of his hands hot on her legs, his scream as she stabbed at his eye with the screwdriver tucked into her belt. And she remembers the shame and the red patches on her skin where all the sand on the planet hadn't been enough to scrub away the memory.

After that, she'd learned to hide better and hit harder. No one else had come close. Until _he_ had robbed her of movement and invaded her mind.

Would it have been worse, if he had just taken what so many men wanted to take? Or would it have been better if her mind and not her body had remained a safe haven?

Alone in her bunk, she trails her fingers over her skin. Would it have been worse, if he had brought his head closer, if his hair had brushed her cheek? Would it have been worse, if he had curled that hand round her breast? Would it have been worse if he had held her chin so she could not look away from those dark eyes as he came closer and-

But it was wrong. Not for the obvious reason, not because the thought of him touching her should make her vomit, but because he would never have done it. There had been an unholy hunger in those eyes, yes, but a hunger for something beyond the physical.

She doesn't want to think about what that something might be.

_And now you're going to give it to me…_

 

* * *

 

_Your son is gone._

She's been steering clear of the General. What can she say to a living legend? A woman whose husband Rey has seen murdered by her son? But she is waiting one afternoon outside Finn's room, and Rey knows she can avoid her no longer.

"You can't leave like this," the General says. "We need to talk."

"Like what?"

The older woman sighs. "Walk with me," she says, and there's no reasonable way to refuse.

They walk towards her office in silence. Rey is fine with that; she's used to silence. It's more comfortable than the white noise of smalltalk or the weightier topics she'd rather not touch at all.

General Organa closes the door behind them and quickly produces two cups of a tea that smells a bit like the flowers Rey tried so hard to grow back on Jakku. Rey sips. The warmth spreads through her. She doesn't know whether she's expected to break the silence.

But the General drives straight to the point. "Poe told me you think Ben is alive."

Rey furrows her brow. "Ben?" 

"I won't use the name that monster gave him."

It takes Rey a few moments to realise. _Ben._ Is that really his name? It doesn't feel right. _Kylo Ren_ is a better fit. As are several other names she can't speak aloud in front of the creature's mother.

"I think you're right," says the General. "I'd have felt it if he was gone."

Rey stares into her tea and wonders whether that means she felt the death of Han Solo.

"I'm not strong in the Force," the General continues. "Not like Luke. But when Ben was a child, when he needed me, I _knew_. And sometimes I can still feel it… But what I'd like to know is why _you_ can."

Rey _really_ doesn't want to be having this conversation.

But General Organa is relentless. "I know it's difficult. But it could be important. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't."

"I don’t know what you want me to say."

"Tell me what he said to you."

When? In the woods? In the snow? In that room where he seemed to take up all the space and there was nothing she could do to get away?

_You know I can take whatever I want._

Rey swallows. "He knew I'd seen the map. He wanted me to show him."

"But he didn't take it."

"He tried." Remembering his confusion – his _fear_ – was grimly satisfying. He'd thought she was nothing and not only had she pushed him back, she'd seen right through him.

She wonders if he'd have come after her in the snow if she hadn't.

"He tried to read you? And you resisted him?"

There's an intensity in her voice that makes Rey look up. She wishes she hadn't: the hunger in her eyes is all too much like _his._

She can't look away.

The General tilts her head to one side, and _that_ is also far too much like him. "I can't imagine he took that well," she said. "Did he-" She frowns. "Did he hurt you?"

Rey stares. She's spoken to Poe, hasn't she? What does she think-

But she's not asking about that. She's asking about afterwards, when he'd run away from the truth she'd thrown at him. She's not sure he was going to _hurt_ her in that moment, but she's very glad she got away before she had the chance to find out.

She shook her head. "He was… shocked, I think. He just stared at me, as if I was a bloggin turned into a steelpecker."

"You saw his face?"

Rey closes her eyes. Yes, she'd seen his face: the crooked eyebrow, the overfull lips, those dark and demanding eyes... She wishes to R'iia she hadn't.

"What-" The General breaks off, but the longing in that word pulses between them. She's not a General now, she's a mother who can't cast her son aside whatever he's done, and for a moment Rey burns with anger that two loving parents were wasted on _him_ while she grew up with nothing.

She's had enough ripped away. She won't relive the nightmare for this woman.

"He looks human, if that's what you're asking. But he's a monster." Her voice is rising. "He held his lightsaber to my throat and he dragged me off to that torture cell and he rummaged through my mind as if I was _nothing_." 

The General grimaces. "It's Snoke. Snoke has twisted him all out of shape, but underneath that-"

But Rey has seen what's under the mask of Kylo Ren, and she wants nothing to do with that black hole of rage and need and pain and fear. What he was is less important than what he is. And what his mother wishes he was counts for nothing.

If life had been kinder to Rey, perhaps she'd be able to offer comfort. But all she can see is the weakness of the woman in front of her. Maybe it's not advisable to meet legends in the flesh. She wonders what she'll find if she reaches Luke Skywalker.

She stands. "I'm sorry. You want me to say you can get him back, and I can't- Han wasn't even _threatening_ him. He said he was being torn apart, but that didn't stop him running Han through with his lightsaber. And he was _glad_ to do it."

And afterwards, that wildness in his eyes when he'd confronted her in the woods…

_We're not done yet._

She has to get out. She wants to help, she really does, but what use is it, to make her relive this?

"Rey. Stop." The General's voice is firmer now, no longer a plea but a command. Rey obeys, but she doesn't turn back. She hears the woman sigh.

"We can't afford to part like this. Especially you."

Rey does turn at that. "What do you mean?"

"I'm not as strong as my brother, but sometimes I can sense..." She frowns, and Rey is glad she can't follow her thoughts.

The General continues: "You don't have to like me. But you do need to face your own fear. Luke used to tell me that hate and fear lead to the dark side, and you can't afford that, next time you come face to face with Ben."

Rey shakes her head. "There won't be a next time." She doesn't need to see the monster's face to put an end to his miserable life.

"I think there will. Don’t hide from it. You need to be prepared. Just…"

General Organa trails off. And then Rey can feel her will in the Force, Princess and Rebel and Leader and Mother all, and she can see how this woman could being down an Empire. And how she could do so again.

"He talked to you," she says. "He showed you his face. So you may be able to get through to him. Don't waste the opportunity."

"Talk to me? He tried to _kill_ me!"

"I'm not so sure about that."

"What? You weren't there!"

"But _you_ are here," the General says. "That tells me everything I need to know."

Rey wants to retort that her survival was down to her. To the Force. To Luke Skywalker's lightsaber. But while that is true, she cannot pretend it is the whole truth.

_Don't be afraid._

Rey is afraid, though. She's afraid she's made a terrible mistake by leaving Jakku. She's afraid of the power that stirs within her. She's afraid of what will happen if she finds Luke. And she's afraid of the dark creature that haunts her thoughts even though he's the last thing she wants to think about.

But she's been afraid before. She wouldn't have survived her childhood without being afraid, and she wouldn't have survived if she'd let fear win. She will not give in now; she can promise the General that much.

The General is wrong about one thing, Rey thinks as she walks back to the _Falcon_. She _is_ as strong as her brother, stronger, even - Rey didn't survive Jakku without being able to see the steel behind the weariness. And she stayed, facing down this threat that sent brave men scurrying in fear. Leia Organa _is_ the Resistance, the dream of hope and heroism that kept Rey going in the darkest times, and that has to count for something. Rey may be wary of the Mother, but she can respect the General.

And the General is also right: Rey can't hide from the future. If she's going to seek out Luke, learn to use this power that both terrifies and intrigues her, then she'll have to face _him_ again: either he will come to destroy the last Jedi, or she will have to hunt him down to stop him wreaking his pain on the galaxy.

Or maybe his mother is right. Maybe whatever he's looking for will lead him home in the end. Maybe he'll drop his mask.

Maybe she won't have to face him after all.

_It's too late._

 

* * *

 

_I could show you the ways of the force._

She should be dead. Bent backwards, arms aching with the effort of holding him back, feet slipping in the crumbling earth as she desperately tried to find a way out that didn't involve dying… one small push from him and she'd have been swallowed by the crevasse.

But he hadn't. 

He'd offered to _teach_ her. One moment he was trying to kill her, the next he was – what, asking her to join him? – with a kind of angry desperation that was almost more terrifying than the abyss at her feet. 

He _hadn't_ been trying to kill her; it's the only way to make sense of it. She knows what he can do, how effortlessly he could hold her still and plunder her mind. If he'd wanted her dead, she'd be dead.

So what did he want? To disarm her, probably. To carry her off and tie her down and rip her mind apart looking for that map.

Except. There was the way he'd _looked_ at her.

He'd looked sincere on that bridge, too. Right before he'd run his lightsaber through his father.

But she'd seen beyond that. She'd seen what he hadn't wanted her to see: the fear that lurked behind his every thought. And it was that fear, she knew suddenly, she had seen in him as they'd teetered on the edge. That had been real, that plea. He _needed_ her – or he thought he did.

But for what?

For what?

And was it just a moment of madness – or would he come after her again?

And if he did… _She_ had tried to kill _him_. She had cut him down and he had lain at her feet. She could have thrust her saber through the heart of her nightmare and ended it right there and then.

If she had, would she have ended up like him?

No. She is nothing like him. He's dangerous. He needs to be put down. She should have done it.

But then she'd have had to tell the General she'd killed her son. She hasn't even told her she sliced across his face.

She has marked him. For that at least he will want his revenge.

She folds into herself, imagining the island in the ocean that's always been her refuge when the desert was too harsh to bear.

But _he_ knows about the island. She will never feel safe there again.

_We're not done yet._

 

* * *

 

_You need a teacher._

She can't put it off any longer. The _Falcon_ is ready to fly.

Poe leans against a bulkhead as she stows the last of her supplies

"So you're disappearing into the stars?" He grins. "Kylo Ren is mine, then. Don't break the _Falcon_ before I have the chance to fly it."

Rey raises her eyebrows. "And you look after that X-wing of yours. I expect it to be in full working order when I come back take it for a spin."

"We'll see."

_We'll see._

Rey shivers.

But she shakes herself and snaps the locker catch closed. She has a job to do.

The General is a Princess today. Standing stately, inspirational, a symbol of hope no matter how desperate.

And still a legend. A war hero of the Rebellion and now Leader of the Resistance. But Rey isn't sorry to leave. And, despite the warmth of her farewell, she suspects the General isn't sorry to see her go. Rey doesn't fit here. She's not the only one on the base who's been scarred, true, but she is the only one desiccated by long solitude and the harsh Jakku sun.

And at least on Jakku, her escape - her island - had been _hers._

But that shadow on her dream, isn't that just another scar? An echo of the mark _she_ gave _him_ : a reminder that he is dangerous, but that she is strong.

She thinks she can live with that.

_…I feel it too._


End file.
